


Wolves of the Seasons

by foolishguniw



Category: RWBY, Wolf's Rain
Genre: AKA some characters are wolves, And the entire world is going to the dumps, Gen, Most original characters won't be too relevant to the plot, Things may get ugly in later chapters, Wolf's Rain AU, violence warning just in case
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-03 07:59:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11527962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foolishguniw/pseuds/foolishguniw
Summary: The world of Remnant is in ruin. An Ice Age threatens to begin. Those in power laid the blame upon wolves, thus justifying their extermination. Over a century has passed since the last wolf was caught and killed, and the species is thought to be extinct. But is this the truth? Or is it one of the many lies humanity has convinced itself to believe in?





	1. Gravewolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've spent too much time thinking about Wolf's Rain and RWBY lately, so here is the crossover literally nobody was asking for except me.
> 
> I would recommend at least reading what Wolf's Rain is about if you want more context for this idea, but I'll do my best to explain throughout the story. If I continue beyond this, that is. Hope you can enjoy regardless.

_They say there's no such place as Paradise. It's just a dream, an impossible one nowhere to be found. Even if you chase it to the edge of the world, all you'll see is the same path you've traveled._

_That's what I've been told, by everyone I've met...but here I am. Why? Why do I keep going?_

_...A voice calls me. It says...search._

_Keep searching for Paradise._

 

\-------------------------------------

 

News from the night before has left Russet Haywood frustrated. A train was robbed by bandits the minute it set foot in his city. Most of the workers and passengers were slaughtered, while the few who survived reportedly weren't left without serious injury. Most citizens reacted in fear for their own lives, but Russet reacts with annoyance. He's running low on stock for his corner store, and thanks to a gang of thugs, he soon may have to sell his own food to make ends meet.

Luckily, business has been slow enough this morning that he can freely light a cigarette. He hopes this will deter any would-be customers from entering his shop. A well dressed man opening the door proves him wrong, and Russet breathes a heavy sigh as he gets ready to put out his smoke.

"Don't go to the trouble, old timer," the customer stops him in an affable tone. "I'm here to buy cigars myself."

Russet frowns. He knew he looked older than he was, but "old timer" felt harsh. "That so? What'll you have?"

The customer adjusts the hat on his head. "Don Graziano. If you have it."

Now that was a brand Russet hadn't heard in ages. In fact, the last time may have been when he ordered it for the store. He scans the tobacco products, finding the cigars in the bottom right corner. "You're in luck, dandy," he says, pulling up the box. "Sure you can afford this?"

Stepping to him with a smug smile, the man pulls out a wallet that looked too expensive for its own good.

Since he was clearly well-off, Russet gives a go at dipping deeper into the stranger's funds. "Anything else?" he asks while ringing up the purchase.

"Let me smoke with you, and, well, I could see myself spending more money here." The man takes out a cigar and puts it to his mouth. Upon closer inspection, Russet could tell he was more than a big-shot upper crust.

The way his striking ginger hair curled over his right eye was unnatural, while his left bright-green one had obviously fake lashes. A dark feather sticks out of his black bowler hat, and his nearly spotless white coat contrasts it in a way that was too coordinated. Even the richest tycoons of Vale wouldn't be so dolled up without a reason. His mannerisms seem as planned as his outfit. Not all of them were perfect, Russet notes as the man barely singes his glove while igniting the cigar. But there was an odd purpose behind each of his movements. He couldn't be a simple tourist, and Russet's curiosity gets the better of him.

"So, what brings you to our fine city?" He puts a sarcastic edge on the second-to-last words. "You from Atlas? Or are you working for someone high up?"

"Didn't take you for the perceptive type," the man comments, a little impressed. "I might have ties to those with certain benefits...and I might not. But that's not why I'm here. I'm just a humble hunter looking for his prey."

"Hunter, huh? I tried my hand at that once," Russet recalls, glancing at an old shotgun hidden under the counter. The customer, on the other hand, dressed like he was ready to meet with a noble for tea instead of facing off any beast. "What's your game?"

"I hunt what I can find. Rabbits, foxes, birds, bears, you name it," the man rattles off, ignoring Russet's brow raised in skepticism. "Right now, though, I do have a certain prey in mind. Maybe you could help me." He blows a ring of smoke, then locks eyes with Russet. His confident smile remains, but his nonchalance is traded in for a serious focus. "Wolves. Have you spotted any around here?"

\-------------------------------------

The city of Beacon is absolutely filthy. From the bases of the many dilapidated buildings, to the exposed pipes stinking of rust and stagnant water. Weiss can't believe one of the last major capitals in the world is in such disarray. Half the people in the outskirts are without a place to call home, far too exhausted with their own troubles to give her more than a vaguely interested glance. They are always freezing, always near any source of warmth to relieve themselves from the ever-present chill that no city can avoid now.

A tower stands tall in the heart of Beacon, almost piercing the artificial sky that domes the entirety of it. Even there, the location that earned the city its namesake, Weiss doubts the temperature rises by much.

There's vermin in every other alley, enough dead to attract plenty of crows and stray cats to pick their bodies clean. The scavengers stop digging through garbage as Weiss passes by, as if they're unsure what to make of her. She shoots the creatures a warning glare. They scatter, a spare few being bold enough to stand their ground. Turning her nose upward in disgust, Weiss is grateful the things can't communicate with humans.

She presses on, knowing she shouldn't expend time intimidating small animals. For reasons she can't explain, Weiss has felt as if there's something worth finding in this polluted city. Her original intention for coming to Beacon was a short rest, but the closer she goes to the center, the stronger her instincts become.

A groan from her stomach reminds Weiss that she hasn't had a proper meal in days. Nothing good can come from running around hungry, so the next goal is to feed herself. There's no scent of fresh food nearby, though the various disgusting stenches are clouding her nostrils. After surveying the immediate area, she decides a short girl in a cap is the most approachable. The three boys surrounding her don't seem like trouble either, though Weiss can certainly handle them if she's proven wrong.

"You there," she begins, demanding and formal. "Do you know of any restaurants in this city?"

The adolescents look to each other, then back to Weiss. Two of the boys have a distrustful gaze, while the other one and the girl stare at her with what could be interpreted as attraction. How unfortunate for them both, Weiss thinks to herself bemused.

"Sorry, you're in the wrong part of town for that kind of stuff," the girl answers, her visible eye not meeting directly with Weiss'. Her hat has been pulled over the left side of her face, possibly to hide an injury.

"There're food vendors if you head down that way." A boy wearing a bandanna points in the direction of a empty street. "Can't guarantee they'll be good enough for someone like you, though," he remarks with clear belligerence.

With her appearance being on the wealthier side, Weiss isn't surprised that the impoverished group holds resentment towards her. An understandable plight, but she doesn't care enough to correct their misconceptions and knows it would be foolish to do so.

"Very well." Weiss gives a nod. It's best to make her way out of the slums soon, she doesn't want to draw attention from the wrong crowd. But she doesn't stray too far from the teenagers before her own focus is pulled in by their conversation.

"Anyway, I'm telling you there was this huge dog in the graveyard. I couldn't tell if it was asleep or dead," the girl explains. "But it looked like it might have been a rare breed. It had big, pointy ears, like...like a wild animal, or something."

This causes Weiss to freeze. The words hold far more weight than the girl realizes.

"So what? You wanna help it?" one of the boys ask. "We got our own problems, May."

"That's why we could make cash from it," another says, hope growing in his voice. "Alive, we could use it for cock-fights. Dead, we pawn off the fur and stuff."

"Yeah, I was gonna say that," May agrees.

And that is the tipping point. The sensible action would be to ignore them and keep to herself. But Weiss isn't able to move her feet any further, try as she might, and turns on her heels.

"A huge dog?" she inquires the group. "Could you give me directions to where you found it?"

As expected, they all return to being on the defense. A boy with dark red hair snorts in her direction. "None of your business."

The boy in the bandanna, seeming to be the leader of the pack, puts a hand on his hostile friend's shoulder. "Unless...you've got an offer in mind."

They're smarter than Weiss predicted, so she puts their intelligence to another test and a hand to her hip. "I suppose that can be arranged. If a reward is what it takes, then so be it." This would only be a possible truth if she actually carried anything of physical value on herself, but she believes her appearance will convince them otherwise. "However, I need to see it before I name any prices," she barters. "Is this fair?"

The youths take a moment of consideration, uncertainty obvious in some of their faces. Ultimately, the leader crosses his arms and cocks his head. "Deal. But first, you gotta tell us what you want with the dog."

"I'm not at liberty to say much, though from her description," Weiss gestures to May. "It sounds like it may be what I've been searching for."

Even if that wasn't the case, finding a wolf within this city may bring closure to something she's long forgotten and given up on.

\-------------------------------------

The question from the strange customer hangs in the air for a long silence, and Russet is unable to give a proper answer. Not to something like that. But the man's smile soon turns playful, and he begins to laugh like he just told the world's funniest joke.

"You actually fell for it, didn't you? Your face says it all!" he slaps the counter in amusement.

Not quite as entertained, Russet sniffs. "Well, excuse me for giving you the benefit of the doubt." He assures himself that he wouldn't have fallen for the ruse if the man hadn't already exhibited such bizarre traits. "But I mean, you'd have to travel back in time to go hunting for wolves."

"Now that would be the dream," the customer brushes the bangs from his eye, only for it to fall back in place. "It's a shame they've been extinct for over a hundred years."

Nodding, Russet remembers visiting his great-grandparents as a boy. The stories they told about life before the nobles ceased power often put him to sleep. But after losing them, he's come to appreciate their time together.

"My folks held onto some old legends about wolves. How they were divine beings that would open Paradise or Heaven, or something along those lines. And that's why the nobles wiped them out." He pauses to take a drag, a bit melancholy. "...To make sure no one but them got to leave this godforsaken planet."

When Russet faces the customer again, his eyes have changed. There's a subdued hostility behind them, as if someone had spat in his direction. But his smile stays. "How...interesting," he nearly hisses. "No offense, but it sounds like your family is made up of conspiracy theorists." Russet glares, and the man shrugs. "Hey, hey, I said no offense! If you're insulted, that's all on you."

"The hell do you mean 'conspiracy theorists'?" Russet's begun to regret engaging with this stranger.

"Truth of the matter is," the customer starts in a condescending manner. "The nobles had every right to hunt those creatures down. Wolves are grim harbingers of death. Any paradise made by one would mean the end for us poor humans, since we're not good enough to join them in their eyes." He presses his cigar down, missing the ash tray on purpose and leaving a burn mark in the counter. "Does that sound like something you'd want, old timer?"

Yep, definitely a pawn of the nobles. Why should the man be so offended in the first place? It's a fairy tale, nothing more. Russet half-considers pulling his gun. But he doesn't have to for long. Wild barking right outside the door grabs the attention of them both. The customer drops his cigar altogether and rushes to the exit, Russet following to see what the commotion is about.

A light brown dog is growling and tugging at its leash, held back by the knot tied to the legs of a broken bench. "Neo!" the man yells to his pet. "What's wrong?"

Neo points her nose toward a woman standing near the shop. Her hair is an icy white, but she looks to be around twenty at the oldest. A small scar trails from the end of her left brow and continues under her eye. She's wearing a double-breasted coat over a dark, steel blue skirt. It's a brighter white than both her long hair and the coat of the dog's owner. Probably another aristocrat, Russet presumes once he sees the cane in her belt. There's a snowflake emblem on its stainless steel head. Her cold appearance is reinforced by the disdainful frown she's directing at Neo.

Russet and the man exchange puzzled looks. "This is what all the yappin' was for?"

"Calm down, girl," the man tries heeling her with little success. He looks at the woman, putting on his insincere smile. "Say, you wouldn't happen to have a dog, would you, miss?"

"No," she replies promptly in a haughty tone. Her sky-blue eyes narrow in contempt. "In fact, I dislike them quite a bit. So if you would be so kind as to get your mutt under control, I'd like to go on with my day." And with a swish of her long side-tail, the woman leaves the two men and Neo still snarling at her back. She meets with much more ragged youngsters that were quite a long way down the street, and they walk away together.

Watching the strange group fade into distance, Russet has to agree. "She's got a point. A dog that big and vicious might get you in trouble," he warns.

"That's where you're wrong again," the man counters as he unties a now docile Neo from the bench, holding her leash. He gives a casual wave as he makes his own departure. "Thanks for the cigars. Ciao!"

Russet blinks, then shakes his head. "Two weirdos from out of town, and they just had to come near my place..."

Still, he recognizes the teens as residents of his neighborhood, and wonders what they were doing with such a classy-looking young woman. But all Russet can do is think about the fate of himself and his shop, not of the world around him.

\-------------------------------------

One of the few traits among the masses that Weiss can rely on is their absolute obliviousness. If something is out place, but not terribly inconvenient, they choose to ignore it of their own free will. They'll conjure up an explanation for things that they can't explain. As long as that's kept in mind, moving among them isn't so dangerous. What is difficult is the domesticated "companions" trying to alert their masters of the things they can't see. It's happened to her just once, but that's already too many times in her opinion.

"If you hate dogs, I'm guessing you aren't looking for a pet, huh?" the leader asks.

"Don't you know it's rude to eavesdrop?" she retorts, not hiding her aggravation.

He looks to Weiss and scowls, but says no more. He's walking ahead of her with May at the front, while the last two boys walk behind.

The redhead whispers to his friend with an unfamiliar haircut. "Roy, does Brawnz really think we should trust this chick?"

"Have a little faith," Roy murmurs back quieter. "I'm sure he's got a plan."

"Perhaps we should break off our deal if you're so doubtful of my intentions," Weiss interjects.

"Hey, who's eavesdropping now?!" the redhead yells, taken aback. "You still haven't told us what you're up to, so why the hell should we trust anything you've said?!"

"Cut it out, Nolan," May calls to the boys bringing up the rear. She nimbly climbs over a large pile of rubble that blocks their exit from the alley. It must have been an entire building at some point. "We're almost there anyway. No harm in letting her see it." May glances down at Brawnz for approval. "Right?"

He gives a noncommittal grunt and begins his own ascent. Roy and Nolan catch up with Weiss as she sizes up the wall of debris.

"What a pain. Why'd we come this way again?" Nolan complains.

"The old bat who owns the graveyard throws a fit if we try going through normally." Roy stretches his arms in preparation. "Need help up, your majes-"

Weiss is off the ground before he can finish, hopping from ledge to ledge with an inhuman precision. Three jumps should have sufficed, but she chooses to do it in five, and lands on top of the hill. Descending takes even less time and effort, and she touches down to meet with Brawnz and May at the bottom. The two are stunned in wide-eyed silence. Weiss wagers the boys on the other side are as well.

"What are you waiting for? Let's keep moving," she plays off her feat as unimpressive. The smell of corpses is easy to track now, so Weiss heads in its direction.

She hears Brawnz stuttering to himself. "Wh-what...who is she?"

"Kickass," May gapes in admiration. Maybe a few extra leaps would have been less implausible, Weiss notes for the future. Even if she won't admit to feeling a bit of pride from the praise.

Beyond lies a stretch of empty concrete that drops off into a shallow valley in the cityscape. The ground that fills it is far too dry to grow anything more than a few weeds. It's likely one of the few parts of Beacon that isn't covered in manmade material, but it's lined with grave upon grave. Shabby ones, at that. Weiss can make out quite a good number of them that aren't marked at all. The combination of the somber sight and repugnant stench has her stomach knotting up. At least that takes care of her appetite for the time being.

When the others catch up with her, Weiss staves off the revulsion creeping in by looking to May. "Where is it?"

Putting a hand over her brow, May scopes out the area. "Hope it isn't gone...ah, there!" she points to a particularly large tombstone almost halfway across the cemetery. "I can still see its legs. Come on!" May motions to be followed as she slides down the ledge. Weiss can't help but be impressed by her keen eyesight. However, she remains wary of the group, and hurries ahead of them.

As she draws closer to the grave, Weiss moderates her steps, taking caution to not create unnecessary noise. Though from the looks of the animal lying beneath it, masking her presence seems like it won't be much of a concern. It's unconscious for sure, just barely breathing. The inhaling is sharper than it would be if it had chosen to fall asleep. Weiss speculates that it fainted from exhaustion, a theory supported by a pinched stomach and gray coat that's been browned by several days worth of dirt.

"Damn, you weren't kidding about it being big." Brawnz approaches with the rest of his pack. He's grinning from a mix of awe and trepidation.

"You can say that again," Roy agrees, not as visibly nervous, but keeping a safer distance than their leader.

Nolan stands beside him, instinctively putting his body between the animal and May. The latter pouts at him and whines "Move it, I can't see."

"N-No way! That thing's huge, it could kill ya with one bite!" He pushes May even further back, much to her chagrin. "Besides, don't they say black dogs are a sign of death?"

"That's just an old myth. Also that's a gray dog, genius," Roy corrects him.

"Close enough!"

By the standards of an average pet, it is fairly large. But by the standards of a wolf, she's on the smaller side of those Weiss has crossed paths with. Of course this is helped by her current gaunt appearance. Regardless, she could pose a danger to any present humans if woken up the wrong way.

"Your assistance is appreciated," Weiss thanks the group. "You may all go now. I can take things from here."

"So, what about our reward?" Brawnz presses her.

"I will pay you at a later date," she lies halfheartedly.

He furrows his brow, then sighs "I had a feeling you were full of crap." Brawnz pulls his hands from his pockets, revealing a matching set of brass knuckles. His friends draw weapons of their own and point them at Weiss. "But turns out, you're the one who's been played."

From the beginning, Weiss foresaw this as a possible outcome. That didn't make it any less of an issue. Or any less irritating.

"You aren't comprehending the danger you're putting yourselves in. I am trying to be courteous and let you go with a fair warning," she does her best not to growl. "If you choose not to do so, any harm that comes to you rests on your own shoulders. Am I making myself clear?"

"Tch, that's, like, our line?" Nolan scoffs, holding what seems to be a taser of some sort.

"We'll be fair and only take most of your cash," Brawnz proposes. "We don't want to hurt you more than we have to."

"That doesn't mean we're afraid to hurt you, though," May threatens with a baton.

The audacity these mere children have to assume they can take her down without trouble offends Weiss to a level where her indignation clouds her objective. Weak as they are, being surrounded makes her scar ache with an uncomfortable familiarity.

She's contemplating giving one of them a quick slash to a nonvital area and escaping, when Roy nears the canine. "Don't touch her!" Weiss orders, her ire now completely evident.

"Relax, I'm good with animals," Roy shrugs with a serated knife in his hand. "But this thing looks better off dead, so..."

Just as he's about to kneel to cut her throat, the wolf leaps from her apparent dormancy, and bites down on his forearm. The unexpected pain stifles Roy from letting out an audible scream until he staggers to the ground, knife slipping from his fingers. Each of his friends call out his name in unison and horror as blood sprays from his limb onto his clothes. Panicked, Roy gives a meek shot at kicking the beast off, but she jumps back and stares down those in front of her. Her snout is snarling and clenched, showing off razor-sharp teeth stained with red. A similar crimson shines in her eyes, a color Weiss has never seen a wolf possess.

"Idiot!!" she snaps, and grabs her cane for the group to see. She draws her hidden rapier from its sheath, readying it for combat. The wolf's attention is still on the teenagers, so Weiss shouts "Get out of here, now!"

Brawnz and Nolan pull a sobbing and bleeding Roy to his feet and run as fast as their legs can carry them. May stays a split second longer, watching the scene in terror, then goes after the others.

The wolf bounds at Weiss, only to smash headfirst into a stone when her prey leaps up and away from her. Landing on the large grave, Weiss jumps from it and slashes with her sword. Though dizzy from her injury, the wolf narrowly avoids getting cut across the face and retreats again. Prowling around isn't so easy for her, as her left front leg has an obvious limp. Weiss observes how shaky the rest of her body is and how her breathing is labored.

"You truly are a moron to think you can keep going in your current state," she states indifferently.

Her words make the wolf halt, but she isn't too perturbed. Then from her mouth speaks a voice sounding just as worn-out as she looked.

"I'd worry about yourself first," she argues with more energy than she has, licking the blood from her face. "All I need is a meal, and then I can whoop your-"

"First of all," Weiss interrupts, gesturing an index finger. "Let me clarify that I am not worried about your well-being. I'm merely imparting some wisdom onto you so you don't cause another scene for my own sake. I couldn't care less if you actually make it through this city alive."

Tilting her head, the young wolf's naive nature slowly surfaces. "Wait...who are you?" she asks, as if she had been woken up from a haze. "You knew I could talk to you. You look human, but..."

"That brings us to my second point. I'm not talking about your exhaustion, though it is incredibly dumb luck that you're even standing right now," she adds to the growing pile of criticisms. "But if you don't want to end up dead, you'd know that you can't frolic around like you're not an allegedly extinct species. You need to blend in."

"Blend in?" she parrots, trying to comprehend what she means. As the realization sets in, her tail wags. "Oh...oh! So that's what you're doing!"

At last, she sees through the illusion Weiss has created for herself. An illusion that most humans unknowingly choose not to see beyond. Behind it stands a tundra wolf with glowing white mane, not unlike her human form's hair. She shares the same strong blue eyes and scar as well. Though barely older or bigger than herself, the ragged wolf seems rather humbled by her grace.

Weiss squints at her. "Please tell me you already know how to make a human projection."

"I...don't have to answer that. And besides, I like looking like myself, y'know?"

The sincerity from the young wolf has Weiss rolling her eyes. "It really is a wonder that you're not dead."

This insults the wolf, causing any good will to turn back into hostility. "At least I don't defend humans from my own kind."

"Oh, are you another mindless human-hater?" Weiss insinuates, a nerve of her own getting struck. "I don't like them either, but it's safer to let them be than to indiscriminately kill them."

"It wanted to kill me first! What's wrong with fighting for your life?!"

"Nothing. But the way you've been going about it seems to be deeply flawed and, for lack of a better word, stupid."

The wolf bares her teeth once more. "I'd rather be stupid than hide and live like...like a coward!!"

Frustration manages to overtake Weiss, and she seethes "You fool...that attitude is the reason why you're barely clinging to life right now!"

This was a waste of time. She decides it's best to leave the graveyard behind. But the young wolf has no regard for what she wants, and charges Weiss, who has no choice but to collide with her.

It's no surprise when the more well-rested of the two has little problem shoving the other backward. The white wolf almost pins the gray wolf to the ground against the large tombstone, until the latter manages to duck beneath and nip at the former's legs. Stepping away without any real damage, Weiss stops for a short breath and expects the young wolf to do the same. Instead, she's already back on the attack, catching the older wolf off-guard. For someone who was on the verge of collapsing less than five minutes ago, she certainly is relentless. Every rapid scratch and bite is shakier than the last, however, and the perfect chance to strike reveals itself.

Weiss evades a swipe from the gray wolf's right paw, then sinks her teeth into her left shoulder, intending to exacerbate the leg's limp. A distressed yelp tells her she's succeeded. Though there's no time to celebrate, as Weiss feels fangs dig into her own flesh. Try as she might, she can't suppress crying out in pain herself. The wolves pull away, giving each other a proper moment to recover.

Specks of blood drip down Weiss' front left leg. It's not a shallow wound, but not a particularly deep one either. The same can't be said for the other wolf. Her shoulder is covered in red, dirtying her already discolored fur. When Weiss sees she can no longer place her leg down, she wonders if she went overboard. She can't spare too much sympathy though, seeing as she wasn't the one who got herself into this fight.

The two exchange glares. Weiss does her best to keep her agony quiet, while the gray wolf breathes heavily and loudly. She's still straining to snarl through her pain. Any decision she makes next will surely lead to her defeat, yet her eyes say she isn't ready to quit. What ludicrous behavior. It almost makes Weiss laugh.

Then, from nowhere, something overwhelms her senses. A scent unlike anything Weiss has ever experienced. But before she can even try identifying it, it vanishes so suddenly, she isn't certain if it was real or not. The other wolf also seems too distracted to continue their skirmish, making Weiss doubt that was the case. The interference must have helped clear her head as well, since she steps further away from her opponent.

With as much vehemence as she can muster, Weiss growls and shoots another strong glare. The gray wolf hesitates one last time, then staggers off, managing to move at a decent speed in spite of her injuries.

A sigh of annoyance escapes Weiss, and she returns to her facade. Being mistaken for another stray dog was not ideal in the slightest. While her human body sheathes her blade, she notices her left shoulder has the same wound as her true form. Red bleeds through the white coat.

So the illusion can only hide so much, Weiss thinks to herself. Though she talked with an air of experience to the young wolf, this was actually her first duel since discovering the ability to conceal her animal nature. She takes care to learn every pro and con that comes with her heritage.

Weiss sniffs, inhaling the old odor of stale death. No sign of the unknown scent from earlier. If she could just smell it again, she knows she would be able to track it down for sure.

The aroma of blood brings her back to the present. The injury isn't the worst Weiss has had, but still she winces when she presses a hand to her shoulder. "That brat..." she mutters, then glances at the trail of red the wolf left behind. A brief consideration of following it makes Weiss huff and turn her head away. She walks toward an exit neither the wolf nor the humans have used.

What could she gain from involving herself with that miscreant? Absolutely nothing, that's what. And she can't afford the luxury of worrying for each member of her kind that she comes across either. Weiss definitely doesn't want to. It's self-preservation, simple as that. Whether the young wolf lives or dies is of no concern to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the bad fight scene, I need to improve on writing those. If you have any questions about how the wolves' human disguises work, it will be explained in better detail if there are later installments.


	2. The Hunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By all accounts, Weiss should want to leave Beacon as soon as possible. Entering it the night before was bad enough, and getting in a skirmish with that young gray wolf hours ago certainly didn't convince her. So what was causing her indecision?

_"Doctor Oobleck, did that...just happen?"_

_"Yes. It is completely unprecedented. We've had little to no activity for a little over five years now, but her scent became fragrant for exactly four whole seconds."_

_"Not to mention her eyes. They actually opened. I've never seen that before. And am I crazy, or does she look...?"_

_"You're not the only one who sees it, Doctor Goodwitch. Polendina...is smiling. What could have made her react in such a way?"_

_"Perhaps there's something...new in Beacon. Something only she can feel."_

_"Are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting?"_

_"And what if I am?"_

_"...Very well. We shall begin an investigation as soon as-"_

_"At once, Oobleck. Whatever it is that caused Polendina to stir, we must find it at once."_

 

\-------------------------------------

 

"No way. You're kidding, right?"

"Each testimony from Car-C is nearly identical," Pyrrha reads over the report in her hands. "Every conscious survivor claims they were attacked by wolves. That would explain the bite and claw marks on the victims' bodies, but..."

"You think they meant 'big scary dogs'?" Jaune asks half-jokingly while adjusting his rust-gray armor. "Maybe the bandits brought hounds with them."

"That does sound plausible." The other Beacon officers informed of the train massacre would agree with his theory, and Pyrrha Nikos finds it hard not to do the same. So far there's such little evidence surrounding the incident, she isn't sure what to believe yet. But it's not her job to speculate, it's to protect. And she failed those citizens. She hasn't been able to get her mind off of it since the news came in.

Her solemnity must be showing, because Jaune quickly finishes suiting up and pats her back. "Hey, don't blame yourself. It's not like you were in charge of guarding that train," he reasons, trying his best to be comforting.

Unable to argue with basic logic, Pyrrha nods in appreciation. "You're right...I apologize, I wish I could do more than I am capable of at times."

"Don't we all?" Jaune Arc can be a little too dense for her tastes at times, but his heart is in the right place. He is a rookie, Pyrrha reminds herself, and therefore hasn't experienced enough to understand the weight of so much death. Not yet. He stretches his arms and yawns "Man, am I glad we got an afternoon shift. I couldn't get any sleep last night."

"Nervousness, perhaps?"

"I threw up most of my nervousness while I was waiting to get my acceptance letter from the force." Realizing what he just admitted, Jaune's cheeks flush. "Oh, uhhh, forget you heard that..."

Pyrrha suppresses a laugh. "We'll only be on patrol today, if that puts you at ease." She stands from her bed, having been ready long before her partner, and grabs her standard-issued rifle. "Let's go."

The two exit their living quarters. Jaune's armor shifts around far more than it's meant to on his skinny frame. His height is one of his few advantages, being just a couple inches taller than Pyrrha, though she's far sturdier than him. Her cherry red hair tied in a tight ponytail causes her to stand out even more. Overall, Jaune had the appearance of an unremarkable officer, while Pyrrha's was that of someone of a much higher caliber.

"Still, I get where you're coming from. About doing more," Jaune sighs as they march through the lower class streets. Pyrrha gives him an inquisitive glance. "Going on patrols, stopping pick-pockets and con-artists...I mean, it feels like we're not making much of an impact."

These types of jobs are reserved for newly appointed officers, not those recognized for their skills such as Pyrrha. But she decided to extend a hand to Jaune for his first few weeks. He is the cadet who knocked himself out by holding onto the rope too tightly during tug-of-war. He needs all the help he can get.

"Don't forget that you're barely past the starting line. I felt a similar way when I first became an officer," she relates. "But if you have a certain goal in mind, everything you do builds up to it, and you will find yourself getting closer to achieving it each day. This is what I believe in, at least." Pyrrha smiles to Jaune with maturity beyond her age. "Most importantly, we are guardians of peace. People rely on us, and that is worth taking pride in."

Jaune blinks, then scratches his already messy blond hair dimly. "I-I guess so. I dunno, maybe I really just haven't gotten enough sleep, or-"

A cry for help interrupts his speculation. Pyrrha sprints to the call without a second thought, while Jaune takes a beat to catch up with her. The source is a trio of teenagers, one of them holding another injured young man in his arms.

"Is there a doctor?! Anywhere?!" one of them pleads around the area.

"What happened?!" Jaune asks, sounding just as panicked as the civilians.

A lanky redhead turns to the officers, his entire body trembling. "Our friend- He-he's gonna bleed to death!!"

The unconscious boy has a bandanna wrapped around his right wrist, its original color lost to the blood soaking it. The redhead wasn't exaggerating. If the teen isn't treated soon, the wound could prove fatal.

"If he's brought to the nearest hospital, he will be fine." Though deeply concerned herself, Pyrrha knows to keep herself calm and collected in the face of panic. "I'll have Officer Arc lead you there."

"We can't!" the teenager holding his friend yells in desperate frustration. "We don't have the money or time for that kind of-"

"I'll help with paying for his expenses," Pyrrha says without a beat. "And a regular clinic may not be the best place for that type of injury. But you need to get him help right now."

The teenager stares at her in disbelief, then looks to the other officer. Despite being a bit shocked by Pyrrha's offer himself, Jaune nods, and leads the younger man to the closest major street.

"It's my fault." The only girl of the group speaks up, head down and fists clenched tightly to the bottom of her jacket. "If I hadn't found that...that stupid dog, Roy wouldn't be...!"

Pyrrha's eyebrows raise. "A dog did that to him?"

"Not just some stray, it was like..." The thin boy pauses, searching for the right description. "Really big. Everything about it was big."

"Where would you have found a dog so large?" Though unlikely, it was possible the teens wandered outside the city. Pyrrha has reprimanded many attempted scavengers from climbing down Beacon's walls in search of leftover technology.

"The graveyard. Past Haywood's. I-It's a convenience store. We didn't think it would be that big a deal, but..." the thin boy trails off. He seems to be processing the enormity of the situation.

"That lady," the girl mutters, her one visible eye still to the ground. "I wonder if she's all right, fighting that thing..."

"Lady? I am afraid I'm a bit confused," Pyrrha inquires. "Can you please explain the order of events?"

"May, forget it!" the thin boy suddenly snaps. "She's the only one to blame, so let's just go!" With that, he storms off in the direction that Jaune and the other boy left.

The two women stand in silence for half a beat. Pyrrha is at a loss for words. May's head lifts a bit, and she fidgets with her jacket zippers. "Uh, hey...about him, he's..."

"It's fine. I do not take such things as an insult." Pyrrha may not enjoy the glares she often gets from those less well-off than her. But with dozens of reports about officers abusing their power in these areas, she knows she has little place to complain. "I will need to question you all at some point. For now, however, we should make sure your friend got to safety." She gives an assuring look to the young girl. "How does that sound?"

May's eye widens as it meets both of Pyrrha's, and her face turns a light pink. Without replying, she starts to follow in her friends' footsteps.

"How strange," Pyrrha hears herself saying aloud. Another victim of a dog mauling...though in a very different context. She supposes she shouldn't overthink it. Not without learning more. And not without seeing these citizens get help first.

As she goes after May, Pyrrha is too lost in thought to notice a stranger had been listening intently on the exchange. He grins, tips the hat on his head, then lets the dog by his side lead the way to the cemetery.

\-------------------------------------

It's silly to assume that food vendors in the slums would have anything of real quality, especially in their dumpsters. But the thought brings little comfort as Weiss has had difficulty swallowing her pride, along with any of the barely edible garbage she's found. Biting into a half-finished sausage, she can tell by the texture of the meat that it's far past its prime. Weiss forces herself to let it slide down her throat, and she shudders. Times like this made her regret having such high standards for meals. Though even dog food is sounding more appealing now.

Dusk is setting over Beacon. The sun's last rays are still strong enough to shine through the artificial sky. Looking to her bloodied shoulder, Weiss hopes the same will apply to moonlight. If not, she could always leave the city and bathe under the true sky outside of it. She never planned to rest for long, after all.

That's what Weiss has been repeating in her head, yet...there's something compelling her to stay. By all accounts, she should want to leave Beacon as soon as possible. Entering it the night before was bad enough, and getting in a skirmish with that young gray wolf hours ago certainly didn't convince her. So what was causing her indecision?

The scent. Whatever it was, Weiss has an inexplicable urge to find the source. With her sense of smell, it wouldn't be much of a problem. The real issue is how it wasn't around long enough for her to commit it to memory, or even track which direction it was coming from. A more childish part of Weiss also blames the other wolf for muddling her focus.

When she exhales, trying to get rid of the terrible taste in her mouth, Weiss feels her hair rising on its end. Something is watching her, and she's too late to stop herself from turning to a pair of golden eyes peering from a nearby alley.

The shadows prevent Weiss from seeing who they belong to immediately, but their owner steps closer to the light. A young woman, around the same age as Weiss' human form. Her skin is dark and the bow on her head blends in with her even darker hair. The accessory almost looks like the ears of an animal from the distance. She wears a white shirt that's been torn to reveal her midriff under a sleeveless black jacket. Knee-high boots of the same color cover dark violet leggings. The woman's intense appearance is somewhat familiar, but it's her scent that Weiss recognizes and puts her in a defensive position.

" _You._ What do you want with me?" she asks, anger sharp in her voice. "Have you come to apologize for last night? Or do you want to ruin today for me as well?"

While the rest of her face neither changes nor moves, the woman's stony gaze only softens. No, that isn't it. Was she expressing regret? Or does she feel mere apathy towards her?

"Well? Say something," Weiss glowers. "Can't talk? Clearly you were able to on the train."

The woman continues to stare, remaining stoic and unfazed by the baiting. It's almost as though she wants to will an understanding between the two of them through her eyes alone. In the end, this just irritates Weiss.

"Look, if there's nothing you want to say, I have no-"

"Your projection."

"Excuse me?"

"Your projection," the woman echoes in an aloof tone. "I know what you are, and you know what I am. There's no one around to see. But you still hide behind it, even when you're alone."

"It's called exercising caution, thank you very much," Weiss responds matter-of-factly, folding her arms.

Brushing a long strand of hair behind her, the woman sighs. "That's...one way to phrase it, I guess."

She then lets her own facade fade away. Her true form is that of a wolf with a prominent, jet-black mane and eyes burning a much brighter gold than the mock-human previously standing in her place. Unlike the young wolf before, this one's limber body seems to be seasoned by years of survival and battles. Far more than Weiss. She does her best not to let any sign of intimidation slip out.

"But you aren't being as cautious as you think you are."

Weiss notices the black wolf is staring at her injured shoulder, making her place an uncomfortable hand over it. "And just what do you mean by that?" Despite feeling her confidence wither away, she tries to keep a superior demeanor.

"...Hmm." The wolf pauses in thought.

"What?"

"I knew your instincts were poor, but I didn't think you were this bad."

If there's one thing Weiss detests more than anything in this world, it's being scolded. "Did you come all this way just to insult me?!" she accuses, anger flaring openly now.

"With a temper like that and no volume control, I can't believe you've gone this long without being caught."

Weiss opens her mouth to argue once more, then shuts it. Ultimately she knows everything the wolf is saying is true, but she doesn't want to agree. At least not verbally.

"But...bad survival tactics or not, you're still my kin. So I'm here to warn you."

"Warn me?" Weiss raises a brow.

"Rumor is there's a hunter in town." The black wolf narrows her eyes. "...Looking for wolves."

At those words, Weiss fails to stop a quiet gasp from escaping her lips. She tries to keep any paranoid thoughts about who the hunter is and what they want with wolves at bay, but to no avail.

Returning to her human illusion, the dark brunette looks skyward. "Leave Beacon before the moon rises tonight. Your recklessness is putting too many lives on the line." She directs her piercing gaze back to Weiss, a shadow crossing her face, and threatens "If you don't, then I will make you."

A man's voice cuts through her words. "Ah, come on, ladies. Don't go so soon! The party's just getting started!"

The disguised wolves see him approach from under a small, low overpass, the end of a cigar from his mouth glowing through the darkness. Seeing the dusty brown dog at his side, Weiss recalls him as the human she met on her way to the graveyard.

"Now, I only caught the tail-end of your conversation. But it sounds like you two were gossiping about me!" The man flicks cigar ashes to the ground, smoke wafting around him. "One day here and I'm already a celebrity?"

Neither respond. Weiss sniffs the air to figure out how she failed to detect his presence. It's not that this man doesn't have a scent, but it's been muted in some way. The same can be said for his companion, which unsettles her for reasons she can't explain. Meanwhile, the black wolf keeps her expression as unreadable as ever.

"Well, let me share a little rumor that I picked up from the locals. A woman in white was spotted in a graveyard, trying to tussle with a wild dog." The man casts an unyielding eye on Weiss, and smirks. "Leaving behind a very hard-to-miss blood trail. Seems you're making a name for yourself too, Snowflake."

The impact of the realization is hard, and Weiss can feel the other wolf's glare against her. Cursing herself for far too many things to list, she pushes the anxiety to the back of her head and attempts talking with the man on an equal level.

"Do you not know how to mind your own business? Or have you been stalking me out of some desire to 'help'?" Weiss asks.

"To help you? No. To help myself? Of course," he replies, not caring how obnoxious he's making himself out to be. "But I am concerned about that nasty-looking shoulder of yours. Why, oh why, wouldn't you go to a hospital to get that checked out? For all you know, that dog you fought might have given you a disease!" The man theatrically paces around the two, putting a hand to his chin in mocking faux-thought. "The only explanation would be...that you're hiding something?"

If Weiss' heart wasn't beating like a hammer before, it surely was now. Her throbbing wound only makes her chest feel heavier. She's too focused on calming herself down to react when the man closes in, his face inches apart from hers.

"Let me ask you one last question;" he half-whispers. "What do you know about wolves?"

A hit to the head jerks him away from Weiss, and he slams into the concrete. There's no time to register where his hat or cigar lands, or Neo's reaction to seeing her master attacked. A black blur rushes past Weiss, giving her a final, urgent piece of advice.

" _Run._ "

Weiss hastily follows suit, doing everything in her power to keep her true form from being revealed under the stress. She knows to go the opposite direction of her kin when they reach diverging streets. Better to risk one of them getting killed as opposed to both. Behind, Weiss hears the hunter yell his dog's name, and she glances over her shoulder, still pulsing in pain. Neo has split from him to pursue the black wolf, while he keeps Weiss as his target. She whips her head forward to the path in front of her.

He's fast for a human, and tenacious without a doubt. The sound of a gun cocking from him causes Weiss to leap from fearful to straight up panicked. She pushes her legs to pick up the speed, but everything is aching. Her head, her stomach, and most off all, her injury. By the time Weiss thinks to use the buildings nearby as an escape route, the few citizens of the neighborhood out are staring at her in utter confusion. Jumping now is too much of a risk. It would draw even more unneeded attention to herself. But at that moment, seeds of a plan start to sprout.

"That man is trying to kill me!! Please, somebody stop him!!" Weiss musters up the most distraught voice she can. Though she loathes using humans as a last resort, she has faith that few will stand for an armed man hunting down a helpless and injured young woman while daylight lingers.

Sure enough, cries of shock and concern are heard from the streets.

"Holy crap, is she serious?!"

"S-Someone, get an officer!!"

"What is this world coming to?"

When the hunter sees what Weiss is attempting, he stops in his tracks. All focus is drawn to him now, though none dare to approach him beyond standing in the considerable distance between him and his target. He takes a good look at the sparse crowd.

"Listen, I hate bloodshed as much as the next guy. Which is why I propose you all head back inside, have a nice, peaceful evening and...get your mind off of everything you've seen." His affable offer conflicts with him holding up his shotgun, finger already too close to the trigger. "I think that'd be best, right?"

The people begin to stand back from the hunter. Unfortunately for him, Weiss has disappeared from sight. He almost misses seeing the white figure on top of a building flee the scene. Gritting his teeth and strangling his gun, he continues the chase.

A vertical leap of that size shouldn't have drained Weiss as much as it did, but her exhaustion and lack of nourishment are catching up with her. She's safer on the rooftops though. She can allow herself to slow down, to take a quick rest after every jump she does. The shadows that stretched over Beacon now blanket it completely. It would soon be night. The moon would soon rise, and Weiss could survive this. She will survive this.

Then, something penetrates her left shoulder. A bullet enters and exits right through her wound, and fresh blood gushes outward. Suppressing a howl of agony, Weiss feels her legs start to give in and she tries to fall as painlessly as possible. Instead, she topples down with too much force, thanks to the speed propelling her earlier. The only saving grace is landing on her good side.

Footsteps advance towards her, and Weiss manages to make her head turn to the hunter. He's standing further than she expected. His breathing is heavier than before, though not as heavy as hers,and his now hat-less fringe has been tousled from the pursuit. The smirk on his face has gone from confident to ominously gleeful.

"Well, now! I wasn't expecting you to put up such a fight. And while I should be furious...actually, I kind of am, but you've also helped me out! Thanks for that, really," he compliments in a twisted manner.

"All I've helped with is extending your jail sentence!" Weiss spits. Internally she's berating herself for being stupid enough to show defiance. But right now she wants to shred this man's body beyond recognition, and refuses to give him the satisfaction from being at his mercy. Against her better judgement, she's even trying to have her human form slowly reach for her rapier.

Laughter comes from the hunter, one that's far too jovial for Weiss' liking. "What a joke. You think they'd send me to jail over killing a wolf?"

_..._

_Oh._

_That is bad._

_That is very, very bad._

When had Weiss let her illusion falter? Most likely when she had first jumped on the first roof, she recalls. He must have caught a glimpse of her true form before she returned to her disguise. Or maybe he had always known. Weiss isn't certain. Dread engulfs her heart. Her stomach drops faster than she thought was possible. Her entire body goes rigid as a stone. Breathing is becoming more and more of a chore.

"Relax, I won't kill you. I'd be the biggest idiot in Remnant if I did," the hunter assures her. "No, you'd make a pretty offering to a noble. They'll decide what to do with you."

He points the barrel of his shotgun at Weiss' legs to prevent her from running again. Or that's what Weiss assumes the hunter was going to do before something comes flying at him from behind. Whatever it is creates a deep cut in his right arm, a spray of crimson staining his coat. He curses and lowers his weapon as the unknown entity lands in front of Weiss. In the surprise, she almost mistakes her for the black wolf. But the lighter, dirtier fur and red stains on her left front leg reveal her identity to Weiss.

"Who's this, Snowflake?" the hunter grimaces, embittered by his injury. "Your little friend?"

The gray wolf doesn't even growl as she takes another strike at him. Her teeth meet the side of his gun that he uses to defend himself. Snarling and pushing her front legs against his body, her claws dig into his torso and draw more blood. The hunter swipes her away, any playfulness gone, and readies to shoot. He nearly gets the wolf at point blank, but she dodges backward swiftly, circling to his other side. She makes her movement seem effortless as she rushes at him once again, this time going for the legs, and connects her fangs to flesh.

Though it's clear he's been harmed, the hunter's pained yell seems bizarrely subdued for what's happening to him. With the butt of his shotgun, he rams it against the young wolf's head and breaks her grip. Stunned, but conscious, she reels back and staggers to the ground. A small stream of blood flows from under her ear.

"Two in one night!" the hunter yells at the canine below him, his morale flooding back into him. "You just made this so much better for me, Red!!"

It takes all of Weiss' effort to pull herself back up, taking out her rapier simultaneously with the hunter pointing his gun at the gray wolf. That's where she stops, however. Everything in her body is commanding her to move, to do something. But she's frozen with fear, pain, and self-doubt. She's helpless to save another life.

Assistance comes in the form of a different gun shooting at the hunter's feet. He jolts away from the smoking spot and directs his eyes toward a woman who's joined them on the roof, a rifle in her hands. She's in a simple, tan button-down shirt and black slacks. Yet it's her sturdy frame, deep red locks, and emerald eyes visible even in the dark that give her an intimidating presence.

"Turn yourself in, or I won't miss next time," she promises.

After a beat, the hunter scoffs like a prank is being pulled on him. " _You're_ arresting _me?_   You and what army?"

More guns being loaded are heard, and four armored officers appear from the edge of the building, closing in on him. Wires are attached to each, indicating that they had climbed the roof some time ago. For the first time the entire night, Weiss sees the hunter's eye goes wide.

"Officer Pyrrha Nikos and the Beacon Department of Defense." Pyrrha keeps her gaze strong. "Please, make the right choice."

The hunter glares at her. She stares right back. He looks around at the other officers. Gears seem to be turning in his head, like he's weighing the pros and cons of his next action.

In the end, he drops the gun and raises his hands in surrender, almost shrugging.

"You win."

\-------------------------------

The process of arresting the rogue hunter, who gave his name as Roman Torchwick, was an easy one. Pyrrha ordered his wounds to be treated the minute they could get a doctor to the station, and a proper interrogation should take place the next day. What was proving difficult was questioning the victim of his rampage as they walked to the hospital.

"Can you give me your name?"

"Weiss."

"Um...full name, if you please."

"How is that necessary?" Weiss squints at Pyrrha in discontent.

"To inform your family and loved ones about your situation."

"I'm not from Beacon."

"I see. Well, I still need to check your identification..."

"If you must know, I'm a survivor of a small fallen town in Atlas called Dust. Have you heard of it? I wouldn't blame you if you haven't. All existing records of its citizens, from driver's licenses to birth certificates, were lost when anarchists burnt down the majority of our government buildings and slaughtered our politicians. Satisfied?"

There's an offended ring to Weiss' voice, like Pyrrha had brought up a highly problematic subject. "Oh, I'm sorry! I know smaller towns can have it tough across the continents, but I had no idea..."

"It's fine. You can move on, Officer Nikos."

"I...thank you." Pyrrha notes to herself that she probably shouldn't let citizens take control of the conversation. Or get permission to continue from them. Questionings have always been her weak point. She preferred the more straightforward jobs of helping those in harm's way. She glances to the injured dog, wrapped in a red emergency blanket and asleep in her arms. Halting a train of thought before it takes off, she asks the following question. "Did you know Mr. Torchwick prior to the incident tonight?"

"No."

"What caused him to try attacking you?"

"He started rambling about wolves and suspected me of knowing something about them. When I told him that he was out of his mind, he threatened my life. Naturally, I ran."

Pyrrha's pace slows a bit, unwrapping the answer she had been given. It can't be a coincidence, can it? Stranger things have happened, but...

"Do you not believe me?" Weiss accuses.

"Ah, no, that isn't it! I was merely reflecting on how grateful I am that those citizens informed me of your life being endangered," Pyrrha lies, though her feelings are genuine. "If I hadn't walked down that street while off-duty...well, I'm just happy I was able to save you and your dog."

"Yes, I...must thank you for that." Looking at the dog bundled up, Weiss' expression turns somber. The young woman's cold demeanor seems to melt for half a second. She then snatches the canine from Pyrrha's hands. "I know where the hospital is, so this is where we part ways. Once more, thank you for your service, Officer Nikos." Weiss gives a sincere bow, then walks off more briskly than somebody with her injuries carrying an animal that large should.

Everything was so sudden, Pyrrha isn't able to properly process it for a full ten seconds. "...Ah! W-Wait, Ms. Weiss!" She runs after the strange woman in white, almost missing her with every corner she turned, until she comes upon an alley with a dead-end. There's nothing to hide behind, and no exit except for the way they came in. Yet neither Weiss nor the dog are anywhere to be found. In the face of something so bewildering, all Pyrrha can do is leave the alley and return to her quarters for the night.

So many questions are plaguing her mind, mostly ones she hadn't been ordered to ask. The train massacre, the teens being attacked by a stray dog, and now this. Though logic tells her that they were just isolated incidents, Pyrrha feels a nagging at the back of her head, telling her they had to be connected. But was that intuition speaking? Or pure paranoia?

This isn't her duty, Pyrrha reminds herself. She's to protect and serve, that's it. She is satisfied and honored to have the life she's been given. These types of things, questions that didn't have simple answers, could jeopardize that.

When she arrives at the base, there are more officers up and about than usual this time of night. Exhausted by the long day, Pyrrha decides to ignore it and get to bed as soon as she can. But the closer she gets to her quarters, the more she can hear a heated voices speaking to each other.

Outside, Jaune stands in front of the door, people in unfamiliar uniforms surrounding him. Pyrrha guesses they're doctors of some kind by their outfits. The look on Jaune's face is one clouded with worry and irritation as one of the strangers argues with him.

"You said she would be back two hours ago. Are you trying to hide something, officer?"

"Look, just 'cause we're dorm mates doesn't mean I'm keeping tabs on her all the-" Jaune interrupts his own sentence as he meets eyes with Pyrrha. The strangers turn to her as well. A tall, bespectacled woman with a light-blonde bun stands in the middle of the group.

"Officer Pyrrha Nikos?" she asks in a voice that demands immediate respect.

"Yes?" Pyrrha's nerves cause her to sound more uncertain than she wants.

"Tomorrow, at 8 AM sharp, you are to arrive at Central Beacon Tower for an assignment. This is not an order you can refuse." And with those brief words, the woman and her team file out of the base, leaving every officer whispering and confused. Pyrrha being the most confused of them all.

\------------------------------------

"Are you seriously keeping that blanket tied around your neck?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"You look ridiculous."

"No way, I look cool."

"No, you don't."

"Yeah, I do."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"How about we just. Stop talking until we get to wherever it is you're leading us?"

"...Did you want to try it on? It's really comfortable!"

Weiss groans. "I can't believe you had to be one to save my life..."

"You're welcome, by the way!" the gray wolf returns with only a hint of sarcasm. Weiss feels that somehow makes it worse.

She keeps her facade up as she follows the young wolf through an underpopulated section of Beacon. Where they're even going is a mystery to Weiss. From behind, she can see the wolf's left leg still limping. Officer Nikos was gracious enough to bandage up her shoulder, while Weiss had no choice but to refuse any treatment, lest she risk revealing herself to not be human.

"...Your shoulder."

"Mmm?"

"I'm...sorry for doing that to you," Weiss struggles to make herself apologize.

"Nah, don't worry. I was the one who attacked first, so I was kinda asking for it."

Startled by how mature that statement is, Weiss has no good reply. She doesn't enjoy not having the last word, however, so she spends the rest of their short trip trying and failing to say something.

The wolves' destination is an abandoned building towering only above other structures in the area. There's practically nothing left within it to give Weiss a clue to what purpose it once served. The gray wolf takes her to the sixth level, the highest floor. "Come on," she invites as she slips behind what might have been a counter or a desk, claws clacking against the ground. There, Weiss is disgusted to see a pile of small, dead animals.

"I got these to save as a snack for later!" The young wolf sounds rather pleased with herself. Ignoring Weiss' face twisted in revulsion, she chomps into a fat rat. "Feel free to have as much as you want, this place is crawling with easy food."

"I'll...pass, thank you..." Weiss backs away, doing her best to drown out the unpleasant chewing noises with her own footsteps.

Peeking from behind the counter, the wolf tilts her head. "You sure? Moonlight can only cure so much," she says through a full mouth.

Weiss blinks, interest piqued. "Moonlight? Where would I-"

"Oh, right! That's what I was most excited about! Go up to the roof, I'll meet you there after I'm done eating."

Not having the patience or energy to argue with the gray wolf again, Weiss obeys the request and walks to and up the staircase.

Opening the door to the roof, a cool wind greets her. It's a refreshing one, luckily, and Weiss breathes in the night air. There's something far more natural about this place than anywhere else she's been in Beacon, but she can't quite put a finger on what it is. She stands in the middle of the roof, glancing at the lights glimmering from the "modernized" parts of the city, to the edge of the dome encompassing it. A high, steel wall shields Beacon from the world beyond. The world they ruined.

It's oddly bright, Weiss realizes, and she looks up. What her eyes meet is beautiful, serene, and explains why a sense of comfort has washed over her. A full moon shines down with no artificial sky blocking its radiance. Only a few of the large panels that cover the rest of Beacon are missing here, but it's enough for Weiss to bask in the light without a care in the world. She sits, almost lowering her guard to a state where she's about to cast aside her projection for the time being.

The peace is cut short by a voice from the door yelling "Ta-da!!" and Weiss jolts back into a tense position. Before she berates the gray wolf for nearly scaring her to death, she's surprised that what she sees is no longer a wolf. Not visually.

Matching reality, the young woman is a year or so below Weiss' age, and a touch shorter as well. Black hair with a hint of red just barely reaches her shoulders. It's a bit on the messy and asymmetrical side. Her outfit consists of a slate gray sweater, a black high-waisted skirt, and most strikingly, a crimson cape with a large collar. As opposed to her eyes being the same as her true form's, Weiss can only describe them as a shining silver.

A youthful smile spreads across her face. "So? Pretty spiffy, huh?" She spins, a swirl of red surrounding her. "I knew bringing that blanket was a great idea!" When she stops, the end of the cape slaps her mouth, and she trips backwards next to Weiss.

Fighting back the desire to show pleasure at her misfortune, she gives the wolf's new projection some criticism. "Where on Remnant have you ever seen a regular human walk around with a cape?"

"The people right outside Beacon wore them, and I thought they looked neat." The young woman lifts the cloth from her face with a comical frown.

" _Perfect_. You decided to base your appearance off of scavengers. That won't bring you any suspicion at all." Weiss makes her sarcasm as obvious as possible, afraid it may fly over the wolf's dense head.

"I dunno! I tried thinking of what I'd want humans to see me as, and this popped in my mind!" She folds her arms to sulk for about five seconds, before shrugging. "Well, I like it, and that's what counts." Sitting up, she compares her height with Weiss', and laments "Wish I could've been a bit bigger than you, even if it's just as a human."

"There aren't many aspects you can control about your facade, I've found out," Weiss informs her, resting a hand to her chin. When she glances back to the young woman, her smile is a gentle one, perplexing Weiss. "What is it?"

"Oh, uh, nothing! Just...enjoying the moonlight!" she laughs, burying her nose in her cape's collar. Stretching out, she willingly falls to her back.

The two wolves sit in stillness for some time, content to be resting in each other's company if it meant experiencing this incredible glow. Soaking in the moon's rays, Weiss feels her entire body being revitalized, and her injuries start to heal. Even the tingling sensation of her shoulder's wounds closing is oddly relaxing. The blood stains on her human form's white coat also fade away, and Weiss sighs a breath of relief.

"Weiss," the younger one breaks the silence again. "What...why did you come to Beacon?"

"I came here for a short rest. Though as you can plainly see, that didn't work out quite the way I wanted it to," Weiss grumbles, still bitter over how hectic the day has been.

"Well, you're relaxing now!"

Choosing not to acknowledge her point, Weiss turns the question around. "And what about you? You haven't given me one piece of information about yourself, I'm not even sure what to call you." Come to think of it, there are a dozen questions Weiss wants to ask the wolf. "You certainly don't seem like the type to be in the proximity of any human civilization, much less entering one. So what could have brought you here?"

"...You smelled it too, didn't you? At the graveyard."

Weiss says nothing.

"I was this close to giving up on my journey, when I heard something." The woman gets to her feet, eyes transfixed on the tower in the heart of Beacon. "It was like this city was...calling to me. Or maybe it's just something in it. Either way, that scent proved it wasn't just a feeling."

As she speaks, there's a new aura emanating from the wolf. It's pensive and thoughtful, a far cry from the restless demeanor Weiss has grown to be familiar with.

"...Tell me, then. What is your journey?" she inquires, unable to hide her curiosity any longer.

Through her human illusion, the young wolf beams to Weiss as brilliantly as the moon hanging above them.

"I'm Ruby. And I'm looking for Paradise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some quick notes about Wolves of the Seasons that I forgot to mention last time:  
> -Team RWBY has been aged up by two years in this, while Team JNPR are all full-grown adults (though only a couple of them have appeared so far).  
> -This isn't meant to simply be "Wolf's Rain feat. RWBY characters", there will be original plot elements that show up further down the line. I hope I'm able to begin illustrating that more clearly.  
> -Because this is being written while RWBY is still a story in progress, there may be facts or headcanons about the characters that are proven wrong at some point. Apologies in advance for that, but we can just chalk those up to this being an AU, right? ...Right?  
> -There are also certain characters whose roles haven't been decided quite yet, so inconsistencies or plot holes may or may not show up. I'll do my best to keep things as easy-to-follow as I can despite this.  
> -I've only drawn two of the designs for this AU so far. It's possible that their descriptions may be subject to change, but we'll see.
> 
> I'm surprised that I actually finished this chapter in a timely manner. Well, timely for me, anyway. The next one will take more time without a doubt, however, since I plan on rewatching both RWBY and Wolf's Rain to get a better grasp on what direction the story will head in. Already can't wait to update this, whenever that may be. Hope to see you guys again soon.
> 
> Also one more thing: I promise to feature Ruby as the main character she's meant to be next time. These two chapters were meant to set-up the story, but trust me, Ruby will be the focus in Wolves of the Seasons. Because I love Ruby Rose with all my heart and soul.


End file.
